Just Pull the Trigger
by goldenlaurel
Summary: A few months after Nora's betrayal of the Railroad, Deacon is sent out to find - and kill - the Railroad's most notorious killer. After months of searching, he finds her at an abandoned park with her son. Unable to finish the job, he joins her to listen to her final regrets.
1. The Brotherhood

_Note: I'm working with the format. This is my first upload. I hope you enjoy this concept_

* * *

 **The Brotherhood**

Her hair was much longer than it was a year ago.

Those fiery locks curled down just below her shoulders, following her movement as she tilted her head to look over at the young child playing on the rusted playground. The clothes she wore were pristine, just like the women on the covers of those old pre-war magazines that she used to collect. Her hands were fiddling with the perfectly preserved book in her lap, her fingers flipping through the undamaged pages with just a lick of her thumb. She looked relaxed - tired- but utterly at ease with the ruined world around her. The hanging bench connected to the gazebo she rested within somehow survived two-hundred some-odd years of wasteland abuse. Hubflowers grew around the shelter, and he remembered a time where she would squeal whenever they crossed paths with the bush. She'd dropped whatever she was doing just to pluck every flower off the poor bush until it was bare.

" _And why exactly are we stopping again? If it's another picnic, I left my blanket back at the last place."  
"I can make a killing turning these into Psycho. All I need to do is crush the petals, boil them in a solution, reduce the concentration until - what? Don't give me that look. Caps are caps."_

But these bushes were full of their flowers and her attention was elsewhere.

If it wasn't for the fact that the surrounding scenery was completely dilapidated from the years of radiation abuse, he'd almost believe she was perfectly safe with the small child.

Deacon's scope scanned the area around the playground for any signs of lingering ferals or raiders, but none were found. Knowing her, she probably took care of the surrounding area if she was going to let her child roam the play area. He turned his scope on the child. His eyes were wide like his mother's and his skin was a beautiful mocha blend of her pale skin and her late husband's darker complexion. The innocence in his face was misplaced in this world, not when so many deprived Commonwealth children would never experience that same glow. The child jumped from his perch and landed wrong, letting out a gentle squeak.

"Shaun!"

His scope turned back to the woman who tossed her book aside and started to get up, stopping when the child held his hands up, "I'm fine! It didn't even hurt!"

He watched her sigh through the scope, his eyes lingering to her soft smile that replaced the worried frown.

 _Just pull the trigger._

He had orders, simple orders. Track down Whisper and end her. There she was just sitting there practically begging for him to put a bullet in her head, but his finger sat frozen on the trigger. He took a deep breath and laid the weapon down in front of him, resting his head on the cold metal. After everything Whisper did to the Railroad, this would have been an easy order. The revenge and betrayal in his heart should have been enough to forget about their time together. He hated her - loathed her existence. He dreamed of being the one to stop her for betraying his friends and murdering his make-shift family. At night, he'd lay looking up at the concrete ceiling playing out every scenario of what would happen when he finally found her. Now that he was finally presented with the opportunity, he hesitated. Whether it was due to the child sliding down the slide, laughing as he hit each bump, or the memories they once shared, he couldn't shoot her.

Then something happened that made him rethink the anger he held in his heart. This traitor, this cold-blooded _murderer_ , grabbed her son and twirled him around, covering his face with gentle, motherly kisses. Their giggles filled the air, melting the stone-cold heart the Railroad agent felt weighing in his chest. They chased each other around the park, climbing on the equipment, and sliding down the slide together.

After a few minutes of playing, she returned to her swinging bench and produced a meal for the two of them. Shaun took the meal and sat down next to her, munching away. Once the boy's meal was gone, he jumped back up and resumed his position at the top of the slide while his mother returned to her book.

He wasn't sure if it was his natural curiosity or the familiarity of the woman before him, but he found his hands pushing up from the ground and feet walking towards her. He slung his gun over his back and trekked down to where she sat, freezing when her head whipped in his direction.

Her eyes were wide with fear; her hand reaching into her bag for her gun. She rested it on her lap and his eyes were drawn to the typical Institute pistol that she resented during their travels. Her eyes darted to Shaun, who seemed oblivious to the exchange, before settling back at the man.

Now that he was here before his enemy, he didn't have a plan. He worked from the shadows, but here he stood in the light that always shined around her. His mind went blank and he hoped she'd be the one to make the first move. When she didn't say anything after a minute or two, he opened his mouth and blurted the first thing that he could think of, "I'm sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you had a Geiger counter."  
Her wide eyes softened and a small, sad smile formed on her lips, "Mine is in the shop."

"That's a shame. I really needed one."  
"Would you like to sit?" She scooted over just enough for him to sit down.  
He took the offer and sat down, laying his gun down on his lap. He wanted to meet her eyes, but for whatever reason, he could only stare at the energetic child that didn't seem to show any signs of slowing down. When he finally turned to look at her, he met her curious eyes. The woman didn't seem to recognize him which means he owed Dr. Suns a few more caps for doing such a bang up job on his face. His nose was thinner than when they traveled together. His hair was sandy blonde and gently curled atop his head. Freckles, much like hers, peppered across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. His eyes were still bright blue, but no longer hidden behind his favorite sunglasses. The wrinkles around his eyes were no longer present giving him a youthful glow.

"Do you have a name?"  
To see how she'd react, he used her old codename, "They call me Whisper."  
She gave a breathy chuckle, "You don't say. My name is Nora." Her eyes lowered and the humor her voice held was gone, "How is everyone?"  
The agent named Whisper looked down at his hands, "Someone murdered our leader a year ago. We've been searching for the person who did it, but she disappeared."  
"I take it you're supposed to kill her?" Nora grabbed her gun and placed it in its bag. She turned her attention to the youthful agent and waited for his answer.  
Deacon nodded, "You guessed it, but I couldn't seem to pull the trigger. Not with the kid over there."  
"I appreciate that," The I would rather that Shaun was at home and not a few feet away from me when my head blows up. That type of thing tends to leave lasting scars on young children."  
Deacon snorted, but the humor was short-lived. "I didn't expect Desdemona's murderer to be so motherly. That's why I couldn't shoot."  
"Thank you for the complement. I searched long and hard to find him. I lost a few friends along the way, but whenever I see him smile, everything I did was worth it."  
A flash of burning anger filled his chest, "The Railroad is in chaos after what you did!"  
Nora turned to look at him and sighed, "It may have been worth it, but that doesn't mean I don't have regrets. How much do you know about Whisper? About me?"  
"Not much," He lied. "I'm still fairly new to the whole operation. I joined up about eight months ago, but they filled me in with the basics."

"So they sent a recruit to kill a woman he's never met," Nora turned to him, her eyebrow arched up accusingly.  
Deacon deflected her accusation and shrugged, "I may be new, but I knew who you were. I was a deck scribe for the Brotherhood of Steel while you were a Paladin. I'd seen you come and go whenever you boarded the Prydwen. I heard about how you spared Paladin Danse when he turned out to be an Institute synth and I guess you could say I was inspired. I left the Brotherhood and wanted to find the Railroad to help. I picked a good time to have an epiphany because the Prydwen was in flames a month or so later."  
She seemed surprised, yet pleased with his answer. She was always gullible to his lies. She believed him when he told her he was a synth, and she laughed when he pretended to shut down when she read his 'recall code'. She was surprised to hear he was the true leader of the Railroad and flustered when that turned out to be a lie. What truly shocked him was the lack of anger after a really good lie. If anything, she loved it.

 _"You're creative, Deac. Maybe you should write a book."_

Nora rummaged through her back and pulled out a bottle of purified water. She twisted the cap off and passed it to him, "You look thirsty. I have some Radaway if you need some. I hear the radiation storms have been awful lately."  
He took a sip and the cool, lightly flavored water flowed down his throat filling him with pure serendipity. "What flavor is this? This is delicious!" He took sip after sip until the bottle was drained. Nora giggled, "It's green tea that I diluted with some water. The scientist at the Institute recreated it for Father," She paused to collect herself, "He was the old Director."  
They sat in silence; the empty bottle lingering in his hands was their primary focus until Shaun interrupted.

"Hey mom, who's this?" Nora grabbed Shaun and sat him on her lap, "This is David. He's part of the Minutemen that patrol the Commonwealth."  
Shaun extended his hand and shook 'David's' hand, "It's nice to meet you! Mom tells me about the Minutemen all the time. I wanna join them when I get older."  
"I'm sure Preston would love that," Deacon patted the kid's head, but stopped when he noticed Nora's confused gaze.

 _Crap_.

"You know Preston?" That accusatory tone was back and so were his lies.  
"I wandered around for a while after I left the Prydwen and ran into him at the Castle. We chatted for a bit and he tried to recruit me, but I declined."  
Nora turned to her son and kissed him on the temple, "Here, take my Pipboy and go play for a few more minutes while mom talks."  
She loaded up the old holotape she used to play when she was bored and sent him on his way. Shaun climbed up to the top of the jungle gym and tapped away, cursing when he must have lost.  
"Language, Shaun!" She scolded and the boy apologized. Deacon shook his head, this woman had the mouth of a rogue pirate robot, yet here she was scolding the boy for saying 'damn'. Sitting next to her was making him forget she couldn't be trusted. He was slipping back into the old familiar feeling that he had when only she was around him - that carefree feeling that warmed his soul when he basked in her radiance.

Then he remembered the way Desdemona's lifeless eyes stared at nothing and the warmth he felt turn cold.

She chuckled under her breath and turned her attention back to her guest, "I'm sorry for what happened with the Prydwen."

 _It's easy to say to a stranger, isn't it? Are you sorry?_

His lips pressed together in a firm line as he waited for her to continue.

"For a while, I was a sister to the Brotherhood of Steel. I met Paladin Danse after I heard his distress call. The place was overrun with Ferals and my Mr. Handy, Codsworth, and I did our best to clear them out. Danse was such a stern man, militaristic, just like my late husband." She let out an empty laugh, "They would probably be friends," She blinked slowly, probably lost in the memory of Nate. "I ran a mission with Danse and he believed I'd be a perfect match for the Brotherhood."  
Nora pulled out a container with bits of melon chopped up, she offered one to Deacon, but he refused. "You sure? They're pure. Absolutely no radiation."  
Deacon's curiosity won again and he plopped a piece in his mouth, once again surprised by the fresh taste. Before he had a chance to comment, she continued, "Scribe Haylen was always kind towards me. She was young and much in love with Danse whether she'd admit it or not. Rhys; however, can suck it. He was always a jerk to me."  
"How did Danse handle the unrequited love?" Another sweet melon piece found its way into his mouth.  
"I don't think he knew how she felt. He told me a story once about how he gave an order for her to put a comrade out of his misery. She knew it was the right thing to do, but by the end of it, she was in Danse's arms with tears in her eyes. When he told me that, I was surprised when all he said was that he held her until she was done. The man wasn't the best with his feelings."  
Nora's eyes dropped to the container of melons in her lap, "He was so lost when they found out that he was a synth. Elder Maxson wanted me to kill Danse, but it was Haylen that begged me not to, not that it was ever my intention to kill him. She told me that she didn't care if he was a synth or human, Danse was the damn poster boy for the Brotherhood."  
"Language, mom!" Shaun called out from the monkey bars. He swung from his legs with his arms crossed in a mock disapproval that his mother often did when he was in trouble.  
"Kiddo, if you crack open your skull, I'm going to let Dr. Watson take care of you."  
Shaun flipped back over to his feet and sprinted way. Nora turned her eyes to Whisper and sighed, "Watson is the worst."  
Once again, they sat in silence. Deacon wanted to say something. Whenever there was a moment of awkward silence, he was there to break it and make her laugh. He made it his duty to never have awkwardness between him and another person, especially Nora.

But today he couldn't think of anything. He just waited.

"My biggest regret was killing Scribe Haylen. When they caught wind of how I helped the Institute snag a reactor they had their eye on, I was instantly blacklisted. When I returned to the Institute, Z1," She looked over to see if he knew the name, "A synth on the inside. He told me that the Railroad was in trouble. Sure enough, the Brotherhood was on their way to blow the biggest hole in HQ, but luckily I got there in time. Desdemona got everyone in order and we managed to take them down…'cept Glory. She wasn't so lucky."  
Deacon finally found the courage to speak, "I heard she was a badass."  
"Oh yeah, Deacon and I got the chance to fight with her once."  
Deacon froze at his name, but she didn't seem to notice. Then he realized she hadn't even mentioned him. Not even once. Maybe she didn't actually care about him in the way that he…  
"I made her a promise. I told her, as she sat there fading away, that I would do whatever I could to free the synths."  
Nora passed over the last bits of melon to Deacon, encouraging him to finish them. She sat in the swing, pushing against the concrete so they were gently swaying. Her fingers threaded through her hair and a sweet, clean smell perforated the stagnant air and filled his senses. There were weeks that they'd go without bathing, much to her dismay, and any bar of soap they came across on their travels was quickly pocketed for use later.

 _"What's wrong Whisper? Not a fan of Mother Nature's hottest line of cologne?"  
"No, God, you smell awful. I smell awful. Why does everything smell like a preteen's body odor?"_

"I still remember the look in Haylen's eyes when I raised my gun at her. So many different emotions graced her face in such a short amount of time."

Nora paused and took a deep breath, "Relief when she saw me because she knew I was there to help like I did once before. Confusion when I started shooting her brothers and sisters. Fear and Panic when I turned the gun on her. God, she was so young and so kind. She didn't deserve that fate."  
Deacon finished the last of the purified fruit before passing the container back to its rightful owner, "They attacked the Railroad first."  
Nora looked at him with a pained expression, "Just like the Railroad, they were just following orders. For the most part, they were good people that wanted to make a difference."

"I'm sorry. That was insensitive."

Her soft hand patted his knee, startling him. For a woman that had killed so many people, she had the softest touch. Deacon stared at the hand, not daring to move even though he wanted nothing more than to grab it and hold it in his own. Even after she retreated her hand, the warmth lingered.

"My stomach was in knots when I boarded the Prydwen with Deacon. I tried to hide my nervousness, but I think he knew that I was reluctant to fight my brothers. How they didn't recognize us, I'll never know, but we managed to plant the bombs with little effort on our part. It was supposed to be an easy mission, but then this child comes up to me asking all sorts of curious questions. He was missing a couple baby teeth, had the brightest eyes, and cutest little freckles. Even under his helmet, I could see tuffs of blonde hair."  
Nora stopped when Shaun came running to her. He wrapped his little arms around her and squeezed, "You okay, mom? You look like you were crying."  
Sure enough, a couple of tears rolled down her cheek. She wiped them away and laughed to cover up the pain, "I took too big of a yawn, dear. I'm almost done talking to Mr. David, and then we'll go home."  
Shaun nodded and ran off once again. When he was out of earshot, Nora finally spoke, "I murdered that child for the Railroad. I murdered so many innocent people for revenge and while everyone cheered for our success in taking down the Prydwen I wanted nothing more than to shoot myself and end it all."

Deacon whipped his head up in shock. After that mission, she was quiet, but didn't comment much on what happened. If she was hurting, he couldn't tell. Perhaps his cause for celebration clouded the despair she felt.  
"How did your friend handle the news?"  
"He didn't," Nora leaned forward, hiding her face in her hands, "When I returned to our base, he was waiting for me outside my room. No power armor – just him. From our settlement, you could see the smoke rising in the sky so I know he saw everything. He said to me, 'Tell me you didn't cause that' and all I said was that I was sorry. He punched my wall with so much force that he broke the boards. I tried to calm him down, but he shoved me away, told me he hated me, and left. I watched him climb into his power armor and walk away. He didn't even look back."

A sickly crack of thunder sounded in the distance, telling Nora it was time to go. The sky in the distance was accumulating thick, nasty green clouds meaning another radiation storm was brewing. She ruffled through her bag and pulled out another bag of Radaway and passed it over to her listener.

"I know you have a mission, but I have to get Shaun home. Shaun!"  
Shaun hopped down from his spot on the jungle gym and trotted over to his mother, "Is it going to storm?"  
"Yeah, it's time to head home."  
She turned her attention back to Deacon and smiled, "I come here often if you'd like to talk more, Mr. David."  
"Bye, Mr. David." Shaun lifted his hand to high-five the stranger and Deacon returned the gesture.  
With her son on her hip, Nora waved good-bye and disappeared in a bolt of lightning.

All he had to do was pull the trigger.


	2. The Minutemen

_Note: This one-shot should be around 4 chapters total_

* * *

 **The Minutemen**

He told Carrington that he couldn't find her.

And Carrington believed him.

Since Desdemona's assassination and his face change, he'd lost most of the humor he once possessed. The lies he once told held no mirth; his lips no longer turning up to smile. Since her betrayal, he stopped joining the other during their down time, instead heading to his bunk to sleep off whatever memories were left of her.

Work, search, sleep. Work, search, sleep.

When Carrington gave him the order to continue searching, he accepted it with an apathetic nod. "Talk to any of her old companions. Someone must have seen her."

Carrington passed him over a fresh batch of Rad-X and a couple loaded stimpacks. "I mean it, Deacon," He yanked the stimpacks back, staring him down, "We're running out of time. It's only a matter of time before she brings her whole damn army down here."

Stuffing the medicine in his pockets, he turned towards the back exit. He knew where to find her; no need to dredge up old memories of past companions.

"Hope you find her this time, Deacon," A voice behind him stopped him in his tracks.

The newest addition to the line of heavy agents was a synth originally named L4-23. Deacon remembered her from when Caretaker was trying to escort her to Mercer Safehouse but unfortunately became trapped in one of the nearby stores when a group of raiders decided to do some synth hunting. He went with Glory to find her while Nora was away doing Minuteman business and the two of them were able to tear through the raiders like wet newspaper.

Glory found her standing over a couple of dead raiders and she knew from the wild determination in her eyes that this synth had guts. A month before Glory's death, L4-23 joined the Railroad taking the name Honor. The two synth women were inseparable. They trained day and night until she deemed her worthy of her first mission.

Honor was phenomenal. She was unstoppable and resourceful for being so new to the team, but she was cruel. Never once did she take her anger out on synths or the other human members of the Railroad; however, she never once hesitated to take out any human she deemed a threat to her safety or those she protected. It wasn't until a few drinks that Glory revealed Honor was so ruthless.

Patriot found L4 before she was going to be reprogrammed for aggressive tendencies. The scientists wanted her to become a courser, but the hostility she felt towards the Institute deemed her 'incapable of performing to qualifying standards'. They said she was a flight risk and, while he hated to agree with the Institute, they were right.

" _Those bastards used to torture her," Glory slammed down her drink, warm whisky drops coating his arm. "It wasn't enough to just reprogram her."_

 _Deacon nodded towards the bartender for another glass before turning back to his partner, "Being mistreated, sure, but tortured?"_

 _The synth next to him took a finishing swig before turning her full attention to Deacon. She grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down in a drunken stupor, "She beat the everloving shit outta one of the scientist after they went after one of her friend. Good synth, didn't deserve it, apparently. She was just trying to protect her own."_

Before her reprogramming, Patriot helped her out of the Institute and into her new life with the Railroad.  
"I doubt she's even here," Deacon turned to watch her over his shoulder.  
"My sources say otherwise. I can always help you run the OP, if you need the help," She sneered at him; her cigarette hanging loosely from her lips. She leaned back in Glory's preferred chair, resting her feet on the circular stone table Desdemona practically lived on.

"Feet down, Honor. You weren't raised in a barn."  
"Nope, just raised in a laboratory."

After Glory's and Desdemona's death, she became more of a loose cannon, but Carrington looked the other way because she was Glory's protege . Deacon picked up a couple dead drops with her a month or so after Nora disappeared and the way she moved swiftly from shadow to shadow gave even Deacon a run for his money. She was silent, she was aware, and she was deadly.

"If I find her, she's my kill. Do not interfere."  
"Broken heart, Deac?" She extinguished the cigarette, flicking it at him, " Weren't you two fucking or something?"  
Deacon gritted his teeth, "It wasn't like that!"

The look on his face gave her a quick chuckle. She rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket, grasping for another one of her cigarettes, "Just don't fuck this one up." She took a deep, heavy drag, allowing for the smoke to dance in her lungs before slowly blowing it back to the room, "Since she disappeared, you've gotten sloppy as shit."

Deacon didn't have a response. He just gathered his things and took off out the back entrance. He left HQ and headed north towards the old park where he met her a few days prior. As expected, she was there, legs crossed with the same prewar book in her lap. Shaun was there too, but accompanied by Dogmeat. The two chased each other around the park, pouncing and rolling all over the ground, until Deacon trekked down through the hill, catching the attention of the mutt. Dogmeat jumped up from the ground and ran full speed at Deacon, leaping through the air and into his arms.

"Dogmeat! Down!" Nora jumped up from her swing and to the stranger's side. Both Shaun and Nora peeled the excited dog off the man and apologized. "I am so sorry, he's usually only like this with people he knows."

"I always considered myself a dog person. I do the same thing to every dog I see, it's only fair," Deacon accepted Nora's hand when she offered it, and he held onto her even after he was back on his feet, "Thanks."

She stood there, staring at their joined hands, "You can let go now."  
"R-Right."

Nora tucked away a loose strand of hair, laughing.

God he missed her laugh - so light and genuine. Some nights, when they were sitting around their camp fire, he'd tell her stories so unbelievable, she'd laugh hard enough to snort. When he learned that she was the snorting type of person, he made it his goal to get her laughing to that point.

" _Stop it, Deac! You know I hate snorting."  
"Is it my fault that I'm hilarious? Charming, gorgeous,_and _hilarious? I hit the genetics lottery! Stare at me. Be in awe!"_

He shook the memory away and followed her down to her swing, sitting down next to her and joining her in pushing the bench. They sat in silence while watching Dogmeat and her son chased each other around the playground. The rambunctious dog pounced the child, knocking him down so he could cover the boy in wet, sloppy kisses.

"I'm surprised Mama Murphy let me have him." She finally spoke after a few minutes of silence.

"Mama Murphy?" Deacon knew the woman when she was still in Quincy. A known drug addict that claimed to see the future anytime she was high made her a target for any raider trying to get an edge on their opponent. Desdemona wanted to utilize the old woman power, but ultimately didn't want to take the time to feed the habit that followed.

"She was with Preston when I first met her. I had just stepped out of the vault and found my way home. It was so devastating to see everything that I had once known and cherished broken and destroyed. It felt like hours ago my house was pristine, but then there I was, staring at the destroyed ceiling of my son's bedroom. His crib was falling apart."

"I heard that you were a prewar vault dweller from Desdemona. That must have been difficult."

"Yeah," Nora whispered, "It was a nightmare, but I found Preston and Mama Murphy along with a couple other Quincy survivors. I led them back to Sanctuary Hills and they made my torn down neighborhood into a home."

Nora clasped her hands and took a deep breath, "I always felt the Preston was the better leader. He had a light inside of him that could never fade. I've never met someone who was so eager to help like he did. Before the Railroad, he had me all over the Commonwealth helping people. I can't tell you how many times I had to rescue the Abernathy family. I spent more caps on defensive mechanisms for their farm than I did on armor, guns, and stimpacks combined!" She let out a soft chuckle, "Given all the trouble they put me through, they were still good people and I was always invited into their home for dinner."

Deacon remembered the Abernathy family and always found it odd that the family tended to get kidnapped more than any other settler in the Commonwealth. He would have thought the raiders would have taken a hint that anyone who messes with the Abernathys weren't likely to survive the endeavor but they never learned.

" _I bet you twenty caps that Mrs. Abernathy got kidnapped again."  
"Deacon, you can't make bets on people's lives, but if we have to, I put thirty on the daughter."_

Deacon lost those thirty caps.

"Preston is only one of two people who really knew what happened when I went to the Institute," Nora said suddenly.

"I take it Deacon was the other one."  
"No," She dared to take a peek at the man next to her, "I never told him the whole truth - I couldn't."

Deacon stared at her in disbelief for a long second. During their travels together, they opened up about just about everything. They spoke about Nate and Barbara; they talked about their wants, their fears. They talked about which one of Nora's companions was secretly hooking up during down time. Nothing was off limits between the two of them.

But apparently the Institute was off limits.

"Why didn't you tell him? Weren't the two of you close or something?"  
"I don't want to talk about him or what we were, I'm sorry."  
"Why not?" He probably sounded more defensive than he meant.

Nora furrowed her brows, letting out the air she didn't realize she was holding, "Because I don't. Drop it."

The bite in Nora's voice made him snap his mouth shut and drop it, but it didn't stop him from matching her glare with his own.

"Mom? Dogmeat's growling at something!"

The panic in her son's voice erased the anger she felt and replaced it with worry for her child. In the distance, she saw the staggering frame of what was a feral ghoul stalking towards them. Before Nora could whip out her gun, Deacon had already released a shot, killing the feral before it could spot the child. Shaun ran to his mother, clasping his arms around her neck, and burying his face in her shoulder.

"I'll check the perimeter. Stay here."

Nora thanked him and Deacon left to find any other ferals. The only one he found was the one he shot, but he still lifted his scope to check the surrounding area. He slowly rotated clockwise until his scope landed on Nora. She was comforting the small boy in her arms, wiping his tears away until nothing remained. He dropped his scope and dragged his hands down his face, resting over his mouth.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew that killing her wasn't going to be easy. After all the time that they spent together – talking about nothing, looting scrap materials for the settlers, helping said settlers after they inevitably got themselves trapped in some screwed up raider situation, those stormy nights that she hated so much that he'd…

He refused to finish the thought.

When he deemed it safe, he returned to Nora and her son, "There's nothing out there. It was just a lone feral. It happens."  
"Thank you, but I want to make sure. Will you walk with me?"

Shaun hopped down from his mother's lap and clutched on to Dogmeat. The mutt was no longer growling, but resuming his duty of covering his master in as much slobber as he could. The pair headed for the walkway, guns in hand and started their trek around the playground.

"I gotta admit, walking around the perimeter of this park and guarding Shaun brings back some memories."  
"Minutemen memories, I'm assuming."  
"Yeah. You know, of all the factions that I've met, I can honestly say I was proud to be with the Minutemen."  
"You weren't proud to be an agent for the Railroad?" There was a sting in Deacon's voice that Nora didn't miss.  
"Whisper, I killed a lot of good people for the Railroad. I killed Raiders and Super Mutants for the Minutemen. With Preston, I felt like I was doing something good with my life in the Commonwealth."  
"The Minutemen weren't freeing synths like the Railroad was…"

Nora sighed, but agreed. She wanted to argue with him, but she felt like she had no right. Defeated, she stopped and turned to look at Whisper, "I would have protected any synths that needed refuge. Desdemona knew that, Deacon knew that, hell even Danse knew that and he hates them."

The two of them continued their walk, scanning the burned tree line for any signs of hostile activity. When they came full circle, Nora took a seat on her swing and urged for Deacon to join her.

He remained standing, looking over his shoulder as if he was still concerned something feral was looking for a quick meal.

"I still remember the skepticism on the first settlement I helped as a Minuteman. They'd been failed before, but Preston and I were determined to help anyone we could. When I came back from Convega, the utter shock of coming back alive after clearing the raider base was enough for them to give us their full support. News spread pretty quickly and soon we had a small following of willing settlers that wanted to protect the Commonwealth. Many of them always wanted to do something, but they didn't want to leave their families. The Brotherhood of Steel was always an option, but knowing that they'd likely never see their loved ones kept them from joining.

"But as a Minuteman, they could patrol their settlements with promise of help if they needed it. Once we got a good number of followers, Preston told me about the Castle. I practically ran across the Commonwealth just to get there so you can imagine my shock when I saw that our new base also happened to be home to a freakin' Mirelurk Queen! This sucker was huge and I hate to admit it, but I ran inside the building, stopping those little hatchlings that followed me. She was spitting this, God what was it? Acid? Vomit?" She grimaced at the thought, "Whatever it was, it burned the shi- crap outta me. She was so big and couldn't fit through the door so I sniped her from the far wall. Preston got the same idea and joined me. He started shouting, _'General, if I had known it was a Mirelurk Queen that had taken the Castle, I never would have suggested we take it back'._ I told him to shut up and get ready because we were having crab cakes and hush puppies for dinner! He didn't get the joke."

"So how were the crab cakes?"  
"They sucked."  
"At least you got a castle out of it."

Nora released a content sigh, "I loved that castle. I put so much time and energy into getting it set up. We patched up the blown out walls, built guard towers, set up enough artillery that we could blast a damn radroach over a mile away. I am so thankful that I had Preston with me every step of the way."

Her head dropped and in the smallest voice she said, "I miss Preston, but he understands why I left. Honestly, I didn't think he would accept my decision of taking over the Institute, but he told me that he would always trust my decisions because he knew that I was a good person."

A shiver crawled down his spine as the burning heat of rage filled him. She was so far from being a good person that the fact that she deluded herself into believing so was sickening.

"I will always be grateful for his kindness and support."

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Nora turned to her bag and rummaged through it until she produced a jar of small, blue pills. She handed them to Deacon with a tiny smile, "You looked exhausted the first time we met so I brought you these."

Deacon opened the bottle and sniffed the contents, "What are they?"

"Vitamins. The scientists at the Institute have developed a nutritionally sound food paste and I requested they make some in a pill form for my settlers. One pill will give you all the nutrients you need for the day. I know for a fact that the agents in the Railroad aren't eating well. I'll bring you more if you'd like."

"Why are you giving this to me?" He sneered, shaking the bottle in her face, "And what's with the life story?"

Nora flinched back. She lowered her head and barely a whisper left her, "Because I need to talk to someone that would understand. The scientists at the Institute don't understand the struggles I went through. I don't expect them to understand, but you… you might understand where I'm coming from."

"You had friends! Why can't you go to them?"  
"They don't know I'm here. Only a few of them know I joined the Institute even fewer know the truth of what happened."

Deacon wanted to strangle her for being so difficult, but he right now, he wasn't sure if he could hurt her. Maybe when he returned to HQ, he'd tell Carrington that the deed was done. He'd lie like he always did and say she bled out while screaming in pain.

What was one more lie?

"Who did you tell?" The determination that Deacon had to find out the truth was enough to get him to sit down next to her once again. Part of him hated her for what she did, but that other half of him was still drawn to her like a bloatfly to a rotting carcass. Nora turned to face him, pulling up her leg so she could tuck it under her. She rested her arm on the back of the swing and her head fell to her hand. Those long, thick locks draped down around her and once again, he was flooded with the smell of fresh soap and sweetness.

"I told Preston and my friend Nick Valentine about the Institute and the fate of my son. Later on, when I needed some parental advice, I turned to my friend Robert MacCready on what I should do."

He knew exactly who Valentine and MacCready were, but he still feigned innocence, "Nick Valentine? As in the detective synth from Diamond City? And wasn't MacCready a mercenary or something?"  
"You sure do know a lot, for someone that just joined the Railroad, but yes, you're correct."  
"I guess you have Deacon to thank for that," Deacon shrugged, "He showed me the ropes."  
"Do you two get along? I know he tells a lot of lies, but he's a genuine person deep down."  
"I thought we weren't speaking about him," He retorted.

Nora tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and sighed, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"But if you must know, no. We don't get along. We are two completely different people."

Shaun joined the two of them moments later. He hopped up in the chair and scooted between the two of them, dangling his feet off the end of the chair. His mother dug into her bag and pulled out some food and the little one to eat. Shaun accepted it and instantly began shoving the food into his mouth. "Slow down, kiddo. It's not going anywhere." She brushed a few strands of sweaty hair back from his forehead before planting one of her signature motherly kisses on him.

They watched in silence as the kid finished up his meal. Within minutes of his lunch, Shaun had curled up on his mother's lap and passed out. "Kid's tuckered out. You should probably get him home."

Nora played with a few out-of-place strands before responding, "You know the day the bombs fell, Nate and I were going to bring Shaun here."

Another story. Another regret.

"I was suffering from Postpartum Depression and couldn't handle the stress of the impending war, the possibility of Nate getting drafted, and a newborn baby. I was lashing out at Nate, but he never argued back. He was such a good husband to me, but I hurt him."

Now this was something new. Whenever Nora spoke of her late husband, it was always positive. Perhaps playing the role of Whisper benefited him more than when he was Deacon.

"Every day there was some sort of threat that the bombs were going to fall. I couldn't handle the thought of losing my family to something I couldn't control. I was just so angry at everything; my government for not preventing this, my husband for not fighting hard enough when he was on tour, my son for crying so damn much… Now, when I think back, I realize how selfish I was being, but at the time, I thought I was justified. The night before the bombs fell, I asked Nate for a divorce."

Deacon looked up from his hands to stare at the woman still soothing her child. "Nate was perfect. He was an excellent father to Shaun and an even better husband to me. The day the bombs fell, he wanted to come to this very park just so I could relax and get away from the television, talk about why I wanted to leave. We were getting packed up and ready to go when Vault-Tec showed up. After finally agreeing to join the stupid vault, someone launched the first bomb and soon Nate, Shaun, and I were running for our lives."

She stopped rubbing her son's head and turned to Deacon. Her eyes were grave and lips pressed into a thin, tight line, "Our trip to this park turned into the most devastating day of my entire life."

The story was unexpected to both of them and the sudden recall of memories triggered something deep and suppressed inside of her. Tears gathered at the rim of her eyes, threatening to fall if she didn't think of something else. Deacon wanted to do something, but he didn't dare to touch her. If he touched her, even something as simple as a pat on the shoulder, the wall he built up to perform the simple task of killing her would crumble and he'd fall for her once again.

"Why come here? If this place brings up bad memories, why purposely make you suffer?"

Dogmeat was at her feet, looking at her with those beautiful puppy eyes. He sensed her sadness and nuzzled her with his nose, "Because it's what I deserve," She patted the tears away from her eyes before they could fall, "And I owe it to my husband to finish the trip he wanted to have with our son. I need to go."

She woke a groggy Shaun up and led him away from the swing set. Dogmeat ran to her side and with a quick tap of his collar, the dog was gone. Deacon jumped up from the swing and tried to stop her from leaving, but before he could reach her, she was gone.

His hand dropped from reaching at nothing and he turned to sit back on the swing.

 _I can't do this._


	3. The Raiders

I apologize for the delay. This chapter didn't originally exist, but if I decided to write another one shot, it would be about this chapter. I am really excited about this one, but I do apologize for any mistake.

Also, I appreciate the kind words. I understand the excitement writers get when people read their writing.

Fair warning: This chapter is a much darker chapter. There's much harsher language and violence. To be fair, if you played the actual game, you'll be fine. I mean, Pickman's gallery was pretty gnarly, amiright?

* * *

 **The Raiders**

The vitamins actually worked.

He took them for a week straight and already felt significantly better than he did in years. His nails felt stronger and hair a bit shinier than usual. They helped him sleep better and within a couple days, the dark circles under his eyes were clear. He wanted to share the pills with the rest of the agents, but if even the smallest hint showed he'd been in contact with Nora, her cover would be blown.

"What's that?" The sneer came from Honor, "You holding out on us?"

She snatched the unlabeled bottle out of Deacon's hands and held them up. She opened the cap, sniffed the contents, and threw them back.

"I found them at a pharmacy near a dead-drop. Had to wrestle a couple of ghouls for them; apparently, they looked in the mirror and discovered they really are ugly bastards and we weren't just shooting them due to jealousy."

Why was he protecting her?

"Jokes, huh? I didn't think you knew how to do that anymore."  
"New look, new personality. Keeps me feeling fresh and youthful."

"Yeeeah," She said with an incredulous glare on her face, "Whatever. I'm heading out. Caretaker said a few more packages showed up at Mercer without assistance. Said they were traveling in groups and aside from being afraid of raiders, they didn't seem like they were scared of the Institute finding them. Looks like those scientist pricks are slacking off."

Deacon thought about it, but Carrington answered for him, "It could be a trap."  
"Their bitch leader knows where we are, why would they need synths to find HQ?"  
"All the more reason why she needs to be eliminated. Deacon, find her."

Deacon mock saluted and gathered his stealth boy, his trusty gun, and a couple stimpacks before heading out the back door.

The streets felt unnaturally quiet for being so early. The squawking of mutated seabirds replaced the usual clamor of hungry Super mutants - not that he complained. A couple of Ragstags trotted down a back alley, freezing and watching carefully as Deacon passed by. Between the two Ragstags was their glowing doe, still shaking on his newly born legs; veins pumping full of irradiated blood. The stag snorted and bucked at Deacon, threatening him when he didn't move away fast enough.

"Calm down, papa. Irradiated Ragstag meat doesn't agree with my stomach."

He continued the northern path with ease and little disturbance from raiders. He took the path left of the blown car and under some downed trees and sure enough, she was there on the swing, waiting for him to show. The only thing missing this time was the bouncy child she fought so hard to find. The pristine clothes she wore previously, instead replaced with armor he hadn't recalled seeing in the Commonwealth. Her midriff, coated in blood and grime, was exposed, something she always used to rant about on their trips together.

" _What's the point of being covered in armor except for the stomach? Look at them-" She jabbed the worn cover of the latest 'Grognak the Barbarian' comic she found_ in _his face, "I could literally stab them in the gut and it's all over. Always cover the midriff."_  
 _"Yeah, but Grognak is a badass so your argument is invalid."_

The chest piece she must have worn with the bizarre outfit laid at her feet sat carelessly aside. She took her time pulling loose the blood-drenched wrappings covering her arms and legs before letting the slip from her fingers. Nora reached down, pulling the bottle of booze from her bag, tipping it back and taking a deep, satisfying gulp before resting it down on her knee.

 _She's drinking. That's never a good sign._

Deacon tossed his gun over his shoulder and made his presence known, but she didn't stir from her fixated gaze on the whiskey on her knee. He sat down next to her in silence, waiting for her to say something.

But she didn't.

"Carrington doesn't know I found you. At least, I don't think he does. Where's your son?"  
"He's at the Institute. He doesn't need to see this shit."

Deacon leaned forward to get a better look at her, "Nice outfit. I take it the other one is in the wash?"

She took another swig and sighed, "Had some unfinished business to take care of before you decide to kill me."

"Why are you so determined to die? This isn't the great Nora I've heard about in stories."

This wasn't her. She wasn't the type of person to roll over and just accept the fate that was thrown at her. The woman next to him was a fighter; the textbook definition of a survivor. Even when the odds were against them, they always found a way to make it out unscathed… mostly unscathed.

"I have nothing left."

Cold, unwelcoming steel jabbed her in the temple and a soft click followed. Perhaps, if he threatened her with an actual threat of death she'd snap out of this self-loathing funk she dug herself into. She jarred her head to the left, staring straight into his eyes with the barrel of his gun finding a new home on her forehead. Deacon's eye grew wide when she grabbed the barrel and scoffed, "If you're going to threaten me, be a man and shoot me."

Stunned, he stood up, nearly tripping over her haphazardly laid armor. When his balance came back, she was there on her feet, whiskey in hand, and anger etched on her face.

"I'm not a good person, Whisper!" The whiskey on her breath punched him in the face, "I've killed people - slaughtered people in a way you couldn't comprehend. This shouldn't be a hard decision for you to have to make!"

When he hesitated behind the gun staring her in the face, she reached out and grabbed the right side of the gun, pulling it to the side before kicking out his leg from under him. He crashed to the ground hard and the gun was no longer in his possession but now staring back at him.

"You going to kill me like you killed Desdemona? Do it," He spat, trying to mask the fear he felt.

Nora took another swig from the half-drained whiskey, throwing the bottle back at the gazebo, "I had everything!"

This wasn't the way he was expecting to hear another story, but he'd take it.

She knelt down beside him, grabbing his collar "I was going to be the best damn lawyer that Boston, Massachusetts had ever seen."

"Sure," she unloaded the gun, throwing the ammo aside, "I was going to be a few hundred-thousand dollar in debt, but thanks to some trigger-happy assholes overseas, I don't have to worry about that now do I?"

Deacon pushed himself up from the ground, following her back when she made way for the downed whiskey. He took a seat, leaving just enough room for if she wanted to sit down.

She didn't.

"Wanna hear something absolutely hilarious?" She dug into her pockets, pulling out a ruined old-world dollar bill, "I could have used a whole lot of these bad boys back before the war, but now, no - now I use it to light fires. If you told me that I would wake up one day using old bottle caps as a form of currency, I would have laughed in your face."

She tucked the dollar back into her pocket. "Nate used to love Nuka-cola. I mean, absolutely _loved_ that shit. I guess I should have made him keep the caps so when the government decided to nuke us all, I'd be rich!"

A boisterous yet, humorless laugh filled the air around him, "Why did this happen to me, Whisper? I lost everything in that war. I lost my home, my family, my husband, my child."

Another swig filled her stomach, "Everything."

She took her seat next to Deacon, slumping forward like all her regret bore on her shoulders. Deacon found his composure, "I'm not that aware of what happened before the bombs fell."

With the whiskey now carefully at her feet, she sighed, "Oh, it was a doozy. The technologies that we developed were unsuitable for our world. We needed oil - lots of oil, just to keep the power going. While nuclear fusion was being developed, our fossil fuels were draining faster than we were replacing them. The Middle-East had an abundance of crude oil just begging to be tapped, but according to the rest of the world, they didn't feel like sharing."

Nora grabbed her whiskey and passed it to Whisper, declining the offer, "Suit yourself."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. No amount of alcohol would erase the old world memories that haunted her. In her time in the wasted remains of her old life, she couldn't tell which generation had it the worst.

Was it her generation? A generation where Vault-Tec was force feeding radioactive goop to children just to see the how it affected their small, developing mind. A generation where greed and political incompetence ran rampant, ruining the lives of millions of people. Or was it the new generation where access to clean water was a fairytale that mothers told their children and death loomed around every corner no matter how careful you were.

Whisper - still waiting patiently for her to finish - caught her eye. She picked at her wedding ring, taking a deep breath, "They called it the Resource War of 2052. The European Commonwealth -the UK, Italy, and I believe France - began their invasion into the Middle-East. They dropped a nuclear warhead on Tel Aviv, Israel, destroying the oil-rich city and infecting the surrounding cities with radiation. The States were spying on the Chinese for their technologies, the Chinese got pissed, they invaded Alaska in retaliation, bla bla bla."

Nora tilted her bottle up, checking just how much forgetting juice she had left, "People were starving. While the Chinese were invading Alaska, we decide to make 'Lil Murica' Canada our new playground to stop China. The power suits that we still use today were used during that invasion. Unfortunately for Canada, we were taking more resources than they had to spare. A riot broke out, but we didn't listen. We didn't care. When the Canadians decided to help destroy our Alaskan pipeline, we finally set forth the plan to annex the entire country. We were too busy fighting others that we didn't take time to realize the fighting we had back at home."

"Seems rough."

"We were killing each other over food, but that doesn't really matter when you're running for your lives while nukes are falling down on our heads."

Deacon chuckled, "To be fair, we're still killing each other over food."

The tension in the air drifted away when Deacon's infectious laugh spread to her. Her head flung back and a deep, hearty cackle filled the air, "Goddammit our world is fucked."

She knocked back another swig of her drink, still chuckling at the unfortunate situation so many were stuck in. The threads of dirty, matted hair bounced around her, capturing Deacon's attention. Since finding her, she was always someone who cared about what she looked like. His fingers twitched, begging to touch her, to brush away the lone threads of wild hair that flowed out of place.

"Can I tell you something? Just promise me you won't tell Deacon."

The ethereal fantasy of her memory shattered at the sound of his name. Once again, Dr. Suns deserves more respect for his work than he's given.

"I don't talk to him much so your secret is safe with me.'

She bent down and grabbed the blood-soaked wrapping that once found a home on her arms, "I am a monster."

Deacon, lost in his confusion of whether to agree with her or not, waited for her to elaborate. When she passed the grimy wraps, he reluctantly took them, "I was about to ask you about these."

Nora took another deep swig of her drink, nearly draining it, "I ran away from the Institute after what happened to Desdemona. I told them I had some loose ends to take care of before I fully committed myself to becoming the new 'mother' of the Institute. I wanted to get away and find something familiar. Nuka World was pretty close to the Commonwealth, my husband was like a kid in a candy shop when it came to Nuka World."

Ah, the famous Nuka World. Anyone familiar with the Commonwealth knew better than to visit that Raider infested shit hole. Settlers from out of town often bought into the lies of the hopeless con-artist, findings themselves the next victims of Nuka World. When they traveled together, Nora briefly spoke of Nuka World in passing, but it never occurred to him that she probably didn't know the truth.

"So, comes to find out, Nuka World is still standing, but completely overwhelmed with Raiders. I wish someone told me before I found myself stuck there."

 _Keep a straight face, Deac. It's not your fault she didn't know._

"They put me through the ringer - literally. I took out their Overboss and well, take it in. You're looking at the new Overboss of the Nuka World raiders."

Of course, she became their new leader. Nora had this weird way of finding herself on top no matter the situation. Preston loved her. Desdemona loved her. The damn Institute loved her.

He… he felt a way that he didn't want to divulge in right now. Not when someone else's blood was literally in his hands.

"When I got there, everything was a mess. Three factions were fighting over unclaimed land, but nobody wanted to make an effort to fix it. First, there was the Pack. Personally, they were my favorite. There were these brightly colored raiders that lived by the alpha lifestyle. The managed to tame wild irradiated animals!"

Nora grabbed a little box out of her bag, pulling out a small round pill and popping it into her mouth.

 _Mentats. Not recommended by most dealers that you mix with alcohol - unless you're against having a good time._

Her head fell back with a deep, satisfying sigh as the Mentats and alcohol flooded her senses, "The best thing about the Pact must be their deep-rooted loyalty to those who are strongest. Wanna take a wild guess at who they deemed the strongest?"

She pointed to herself after a couple seconds, "Ding, ding, ding. It's yours truly. Here's your prize."

She passed the Mentats over to Deacon, but he refused once again. Nora scowled, "Fine. Didn't want to share anyways. After today's trip, these bad boys are going down the drain. The last thing I need is for my position in the Institute to be compromised due to these."

"Uh, the raiders?"

"Right. So, personally, I really admired the Blacks. Mags and her brother ran the Operation. Easily, they were some of the classiest, cut-throat Raiders I've ever come across. The Black siblings would have been a force to be reckoned with in my time. Gage liked trashing their reputation whenever he had the chance - thought they were too pretty to be real raiders."

"Gage?"

"We had an _interesting_ relationship."

A shiver shot through his spine, heat swelling behind his ears. Images of Nora and an unknown man twisting around each other's bodies in a moment of ecstasy flooded his mind.

 _Stop. You have no claim on her. You never did._

The awkward silence from Whisper did not go unnoticed. She slapped his back and laughed, "Please, the last thing I want is some advanced wasteland STD that I have to explain to my doctor. We found comfort in one another after a while, but not for any of the right reasons."

"Missing anyone in particular?" He didn't want to admit to himself that he was baiting her. He especially didn't want to admit he wanted to hear his -

"Deacon. I missed Deacon." Deacon felt the heat build in his face; she was not supposed to say his name. "Gage was the complete opposite of him, but loneliness does something to a person. Lowers your standards to a point that trash looks like gold."

She took another swig, further dulling her already gone senses.

"You ever hear of Pickman? What if I told you there were a group of raiders even worse than him."

"Disturbing." The heat finally settled away from his face.

" _Nisha_ ," She growled her name with disdain, "Her name leaves the nastiest taste in my mouth. She was the leader of the Disciples, the most sadistic, cold-blooded group of people I ever met. Their hideout would have given Pickman the biggest, bloodthirsty boner. As soon as walked in the door, the stench of iron and rotting flesh invaded my nose. If I wasn't so damn used to it, I would have puked right then and there. Unfortunately, that type of weakness was extremely frowned upon.

"Nisha was at the top on her bloody throne - remember I'm being literal and not the least bit British about it. A woman stopped me, she had this deep southern belle accent. She dragged me into her room before taking off her mask. They all wore masks, by the way."

Nora stood up, wobbling on her drunken legs, "Why hello, Miss Overboss," Her voice carrying a high-pitched, southern accent, "The names Dixie! Let me show you my room!"

With her voice back to how it was, she turned around, "This cute girl was a textbook example of a serial killer. She'd play dumb to lure unsuspecting travelers, murder them and steal their things to keep as momentums. She'd earn their trust only to laugh in their faces as she's slitting their throats. Her room had the trinkets she valued the most and she could tell me who they belonged to, no matter how long ago it was that she killed them."

A different type of chill shot through his spine. Raiders were merciless, but only the super mutants were known to be this malicious.

"Nisha," Nora sneered, "that bitch."

The mentats had her lost in an old memory he didn't care to see.

"She had one rule: 'Don't get caught'. We butted heads every chance we got. I could acknowledge she was needed to keep the rest of her group under control, but she was nearly impossible to work with. She wanted bloodshed and I was too busy trying to restore Nuka World back to its original glory to satisfy her needs."

Nora took another gulp of her whiskey, taking a seat down next to Whisper. "I gave them one rule. One single, itsy bitsy rule."

The intensity in her eyes captured him, paralyzingly him, "Don't touch my fucking settlers. They knew my territory. I don't care who they fucked with, but I worked way too hard to build those people a stable home. I was practically giving these monsters a brand new home, but guess who didn't think it was enough!"

Deacon shrugged his shoulder, opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't answer that. So, get this," Her words slurred, "We're going to do some basic math; nothing too hard. If I have five territories and three groups of people, what's the best way to split the territory?"

Deacon figured it was a rhetorical question, but when Nora didn't continue her story, instead staring intently at him, he answered, "Oh, uh. Two, two, and one?"

"Yes, Whisper! That deserves a drink!" She tipped the bottle up, but nothing came out. "Now that is messed up."

Deacon gently took the bottle from her hand, prying her tightly-wound fingers from the neck of the bottle, "It's dangerous for you to be this drunk out in the open."

"How sweet, one minute you threaten to kill me and now you're trying to protect you," her hand pressed against his chest, "You'll eat those words, Whisper."

She wiped her hands down her face, "Greed makes people do terrible things. The Pack and Operators proved themselves to be loyal and trustworthy, but the Disciples stayed with a knife at my throat. Some bullshit happened with Nisha and I had to take care of it before the tension escalated to anything extreme. The last thing I needed was a full-blown war between these factions. Even Gage was restless of how on edge they were becoming. Not to mention that countless assassination attempts on my life. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Nisha was sending out the orders. She was pissed because her people only got one territory."

"I went to their base and as I climbed up those stairs to confront her about the cute attempts she was making on my life but something caught my eye in Dixie's room. She was there, sharpening her knives, completely unaware of my presence until I was at her shelf. I spent some time with a small settlement out in the middle of nowhere. They were struggling to take care of themselves, but with the help of my Minutemen, I was able to reinforce their homes with enough equipment to hold off any intruder. The leader of the settlement had a daughter around the age of seven or so. She was painfully shy but had this precious wonder that reminded me of Shaun."

 _This isn't good._

"She loved Codsworth - absolutely adored him. I found a little Mr. Handy statue at my old house and brought it for her to have. I made a little the bowler hat Codsworth used to wear, too. Nina squeaked with excitement when I gave it to her and she latched onto my legs with all of her tiny might."

Nora stopped, a small smile forming on her lips before falling.

"So imagine my anger when I find that statue on Dixie's shelf."

Deacon wanted to reach out, but he stopped himself, "Nora, I'm so sorry."

Her eyebrows furrowed and face distorted into anger, "I asked the bitch where she found the statue and she just sneered at me, 'Oh, I found it," The accent returned in full force, "'I was out in the field and this absolutely adorable family saw me and asked if I needed help. There was just something so tantalizing about this little group of people so I told them that I definitely needed some assistance. They took me home and that night, I turned the town red.' She picked the Mr. Handy out of my hand and tilted it up, 'look how cute! It has a little bowler hat!'"

"Sure enough, Nina's name was etched on the base in that adorable little handwriting of her."

"What did you do?" Deacon asked.

"The Disciples broke my only rule for them. So I broke them."

The bags under her eyes deepened and the dullness of her iris' stood out against the redness as tears threatened to fall, "The Pack brought me Nisha and I told her very carefully that I did not tolerate what she did to my people. She played dumb, but in a snarky sort of way. I passed her a box and when she opened it, I think the blood drained from her face."

 _"What is this?" Nisha hissed, holding up the decapitated head of her southern belle._

"I tortured her. I wanted to hear her scream in agony for what she did. Dixie just laughed the whole time. That does something to a person, you know?"

"Not really," Deacon tucked his hands away, trying to hide the shaking as memories of the synth he once tortured invaded his memories.

"I was going to make Nisha proud. I started with the non-essentials. Teeth, fingernail, toenails -the basic torture starters." The thousand-yard stare that people often had when they were thinking of terrible things showed up on her face, "We took her fingers, her toes, her feet, her eyes. She wouldn't scream. I took her tongue, her arms, legs. I pumped her full of stimpacks just to keep her alive."

"I shouldn't have felt as much satisfaction as I did, but I couldn't help it. She was nothing but a torso and head, but it still wasn't enough. I could have finished the job, but I didn't. I took her body, still pumped full of stimpacks and dumped it on their territory for her to bleed on her own soil. The Pack and Operation took that as an open invitation to finish the job."

Nora stood up, turning to Deacon, "I'm a monster, Whisper. Those wrappings, the armor; it's Nisha's. I just came back from Nuka World. I had some unfinished _business_ to dispose of. I spoke with Gage while there. I think he'll keep his promise on not attacking my settlers. "

Deacon stood up with her, "Why did you come back? We would never have thought to go to Nuka World. You would have been safe there."

"Evan." A warm smile graced her face through the grime and dried blood, "I went out into the outskirts and came across his little hut. He'd lost his family, yet he stayed there trying to help whoever he could. I sat with him for hours talking. I told him what I'd done and my reasons and he just listened to me. No judgment. The Raiders never bothered him for whatever reason."

Nora grasped at Nisha's wrappings, "He was an angel living in hell, but he never gave up. He encouraged me to go back and make things right. So I left."

"So what did you tell him about killing Desdemona? I mean, those raiders were hardly even people, but Desdemona? She was your friend!"

Electricity bounced between the two. The anger etched on Deacon's face forced Nora to sober up much faster than she wanted to. The memory to watching Desdemona's lifeless body threatened to resurface after months of careful suppression. The abrupt feeling of intense fear reached its peak in the seconds it took for her to see the blood leeching from Desdemona's head in her memories. She clutched her chest, trying to calm the palpitations of her racing heart. A deep tingling prickled in the roots of molars, scratching its way down her throat making her choke. A cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck, drying against her already sticky skin.

She needed to run. She wasn't ready for this.

Nora backed away from Deacon, frantically smashing the screen of her pip-boy, "I'm sorry, Whisper. Please don't tell Deacon what I told you. I don't want to hurt him anymore."

"Dammit, Nora!" He reached out towards her, knowing she was trying to escape, "Why did you kill her?!"

With a flash of lightning, she was gone.

And once again, he was alone.

* * *

 _From the Wiki: Evan and his home is a tribute to Reddit user NoohjXLVII's brother Evan, who passed away before Bethesda Softworks could deliver a Care Package of Fallout merchandise, which was sent as a way of supporting the two brothers after their father had died. To make up for the delayed package, Bethesda promised to include Evan as an NPC in Nuka-World._


End file.
